Chapter 70: The Passionate Zhao Jinghong, the Duel Begins!
A day passed swiftly. After two full days and nights of cultivation, Zhang Ze finally awoke from his trance. He watched the morning sun with renewed interest, suddenly feeling as though the world was unusually kind to him.
...
“Hey—”
“Ze, you didn’t leave your room yesterday, but you look quite refreshed today—”
As soon as he stepped out of the dormitory, he was greeted by a teasing voice. Naturally, Peng Fei’s banter followed, “You don’t know, do you? Our Ze didn’t go out, but who’s to say someone didn’t come in last night?”
The two went back and forth with their mischief, filling the air with their playful banter.
Zhang Ze paid them no mind, scanning the crowd and suddenly pausing, “Cai Hu didn’t come back yesterday?”
Everyone shook their heads.
...
Ren Fan and Zhao Wu led the group into the Anqing Martial Bureau.
“Zhang Ze, I heard from Qian that you guys had a run-in with the Jiuhua Sect the night before?” Zhao Wu, usually the quiet one, suddenly spoke up, surprising Zhang Ze.
“Yes—”
“That’s right.”
“Be careful, the Duan brothers aren’t just martial artists with empty cultivation,” Zhao Wu warned in a deep voice, rather than blaming them. “To be honest, these disciples from traditional martial arts sects are strongest in their technique.”
“I understand.”
...
The group didn’t waste time chatting and proceeded straight to the training ground.
Things were different today.
Only a single ring remained at the center of the training field, but its diameter had been expanded to about thirty meters, making it far more spacious.
The rest areas for the various martial schools hadn’t changed much, except for a few new faces on either side of the leadership seats to the north.
Zhang Ze soon spotted the three Duan brothers on the right side of the leadership seats. This time, Duan Qingkuang was with them.
On the other side, Huizhou Logistics had only three figures, including Hu Guanghui himself. The two young men must be Hu Yunchang and Hu Yide, the competitors for the tournament.
...
“Does this world not have the history of the Three Kingdoms?” Zhang Ze muttered after getting information about these two from Ren Fan.
“Martial instructors and students, those gathered on my left and right are the teams from Huizhou Logistics and Jiuhua Sect,”
“Let’s hope in the upcoming matches…”
A woman stood on the central ring, speaking symbolically once everyone had arrived.
Soon, the microphone passed to Zhao Jinghong, a seventh-rank martial artist.
At this point, Zhang Ze and seven other martial school students who had passed the preliminary group stage, along with the Duan brothers and the Hu brothers, stepped onto the ring.
“The upcoming martial contest will be held among the thirteen of you,”
Zhao Jinghong stood before them, his voice resonant and piercing.
The crowd tensed unconsciously at his words.
“Before the competition begins, I want to say that achieving what you have at your age is truly remarkable.”
He surveyed them, continuing, “Within Anqing Province, you represent the highest level of martial achievement among your peers.”
“But!”
“You’re still weak, still immature!”
“You don’t realize that your ability to cultivate peacefully and use various elixirs is paid for in blood and even lives by the strong who came before you.”
“As martial artists—especially as future elites—if you don’t understand why you walk this path, you’ll never become truly strong!”
“…”
Zhao Jinghong’s sudden impassioned speech caught Zhang Ze and the others off guard.
Yet, he didn’t linger on it; he knew well that each of these young men and women had their own convictions.
Trying to change anything in the hearts of those in their teens and twenties was almost impossible...
As he spoke, Zhao Jinghong recalled Lin Yushan’s words and glanced at the Duan brothers.
He wondered, “Could these three really become students of my bureau?”
...
Pushing away his stray thoughts, Zhao Jinghong swiftly arranged the tournament schedule.
In the first round, one out of thirteen would be eliminated, leaving twelve to compete for six spots.
The second round would eliminate one from the six, leaving five plus the first-round dropout to compete for three spots.
Finally, four would vie for the top three.
The schedule was simple, and to Zhang Ze, it felt like the true beginning of the tournament—beyond mere exchange.
It had only been two days, but Zhang Ze himself felt his strength had improved.
The twelve beside him were all second-rank martial artists.
Thinking of this, even Zhang Ze couldn’t help but feel anticipation for the matches to come.
...
About fifteen minutes later,
The first round was set.
The eliminated contestant turned out to be the youngest of the Duan brothers.
Yet, Duan Wuren seemed unsurprised by his exclusion.
He approached his two elder brothers, started to speak, but chose silence instead.
...
“So it’s their guy who got dropped.”
With prior assumptions, Qian squinted, suspecting the fairness of Anqing Martial Bureau’s arrangements.
But Zhang Ze, at his side, chuckled, “Maybe just luck. Don’t overthink it.”
“As for the matter I asked you to handle earlier, let’s see what those guys decide.”
He muttered as he looked at the schedule displayed on the big screen.
“Second match: Yongsheng Martial School, Zhang Ze vs. Liuqing Martial School, Fang Ying.”
...
The first two participants had an old connection to Zhang Ze.
Jia Zhengyi entered the ring, facing Hu Yide from the Huizhou Martial Bureau.
Whenever Zhang Ze saw the names Hu Yunchang and Hu Yide, he couldn’t help but wonder if they had an elder brother named Hu Xuande.
But in reality, the Hu brothers weren’t related by blood.
Both their families were ordinary logistics workers at Huizhou Logistics, but their martial talent had earned them Hu Guanghui’s mentorship.
Hu Yide possessed over three hundred points of cellular strength, and Huizhou Logistics had plenty of experience cultivating martial artists.
Thus, Hu Yide’s prowess was beyond doubt.
After only a brief exchange in the ring, Jia Zhengyi’s expression grew tense, his arms trembling.
His cellular strength was inferior, and after that initial clash, his arms were numb.
Hu Yide noticed this, but had no intention of letting him off easy.
“Heh—”
He exhaled lightly, stepping forward suddenly, his right hand forming a claw and reaching for Jia Zhengyi’s left shoulder.
“Hmph—”
Jia Zhengyi snorted, stepping forward rather than retreating, throwing a punch at his opponent’s face.
Bang—
A solid collision echoed with a powerful shockwave.